


Day 5: And the bells were ringing out for Christmas Day

by fantasybean



Series: 12 Days of Sherlockmas! [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Established Relationship, Family Drama, M/M, Protective Sherlock Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27904930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantasybean/pseuds/fantasybean
Summary: Sherlock doesn't like it when people upset John Watson. Not even when it's the man's sister.Harry Watson turns up drunk and uninvited to their Christmas Dinner.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: 12 Days of Sherlockmas! [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036677
Comments: 4
Kudos: 91





	Day 5: And the bells were ringing out for Christmas Day

**Author's Note:**

> Another one-shot in my 12 Days of Sherlockmas series :)

Christmas day was turning out to be rather a success. John had woken up with Sherlock wrapped around him like the sleeping limpet he always was, they’d had breakfast and exchanged gifts. After a shared shower (that left both men relaxed and sharing smirks for a good hour after) Sherlock pottered around the kitchen experimenting while John read a book in his armchair under the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree beside him. By mid-afternoon Sherlock’s experiments had been packed away to make room for cooking Christmas Dinner. Joining them for the celebratory feast was Mrs Hudson and Mycroft; Mr and Mrs Holmes had gone away for Christmas and John had felt bad for the elder Holmes brother and invited him to dinner at 221b, much to the exasperation but eventual acceptance of Sherlock. The detective agreed deep down. He just liked to be contrary when it came to his brother.

When Mrs Hudson came upstairs they welcomed her with a drink and Sherlock kept her company while John watched over the dinner. Mycroft arrived just as John was plating up the dishes – his timing was both impeccable and creepy, as usual.

“Ahh! We’re all here!” Mrs Hudson smiled.

“And dinner is ready!” John called from the kitchen.

“Smells delightful.” Mycroft smiled.

They all served themselves their portions and sat at the table.

“Ohh, this turkey is lovely.” Mrs Hudson praised after a bite.

“It should be – Sherlock’s been experimenting all week on how to make the perfect turkey.” John chuckled, fondly looking at the man beside him which earned him a pleased smile.

“Business not booming at the moment then, Sherlock?” Mycroft raised a brow.

“Not this week, but we expect a few cases to come along very soon – Christmas and the New Year invites a lot of interesting domestic arguments and murders. Occasionally even interesting ones.” Sherlock bit a potato.

“Well that’s something to look forward to, I suppose.” Mycroft conceded.

Mrs Hudson dove into some of the more interesting neighbourhood gossip which did a lovely job at stopping the brothers from arguing.

“-and then Mrs Turner tells me her married ones are both cheating on one another behind the other’s back! I told her don’t you go getting involved in their private lives, they’ll figure it ou-“

There was a loud knock on the front door.

“What the-who is that? Today of all days.” John frowned, put his knife and fork down, and stood to investigate.

“That isn’t a familiar knocking pattern.” Sherlock said after a moment.

“Perhaps it’s for me then. Let me go.” Mrs Hudson waved John down and went downstairs before he could protest.

The three men kept their ears perked but couldn’t hear much, only about a minute of muffled discussion before two sets of footsteps came upstairs.

“He’s just up here.” Mrs Hudson said as she was followed into the kitchen by a woman with dyed blonde hair with dark roots. She wore relaxed trousers and a denim jacket – a christmas hat sat skewed atop of her head.

“Harry?” John stood once more and stared, bewildered, at his sister.

“John-o!” she cried jovially “How you doing mate!?” she surged forward and enveloped him in a big hug which he slowly returned.

“Um, fine. What are you doing here?” John took a subtle sniff of the air and scrunched his nose at the reek of beer. Last time they spoke they had fought and it ended with him saying unless she got sober he wouldn’t be willing to be there for her anymore.

“Thought I’d come visit my little brother for Crimbo!” she pulled back, put an arm over his shoulder and looked down at the Holmes Brothers who sat quietly scrutinising her.

“Oh. Well, we don’t really have that much excess food going, considering you weren’t invited.” John frowned.

“Yeah – speaking of – why are these randoms here? And you don’t even bother inviting your own sister to Christmas? What kind of lousy brother are you? After all I did for you when you got back from that war place.” She sauntered over to the table and sat in John’s seat, grabbing a potato and biting into it “Seriously, who wears waistcoats anymore? Who are you?” Harry scowled at Mycroft.

“This is Mycroft. My brother.” Sherlock stated.

Harry’s head swung around to look at Sherlock “And you’re the detective guy! With the stupid hat. On the telly. You live with my brother? What’s that like? It’s been years since I had to, I always found him annoying.”

“John is by far the least annoying person in this flat.” Sherlock said.

“Harry, why don’t I get you some water?” John suggested, sharing a slightly worried look with Mrs Hudson as his sister picked up his wine glass and inspected it.

“Nah, nah, I’ll have some of this.” She grabbed the bottle of wine from the middle of the table, topped up John’s glass and took a swig “Ohh, this is lovely – you’re doing well for yourself John!”

“Yes, well-“ she cut him off.

“Listen, I’ll cut to the chase. I know I wasn’t invited. I know last time we had words. I said some things. You said some things. I get it. But Clara’s kicked me out again. Mind putting me up for a day or two?”

“Uhh…” John’s eyes went almost comically wide and they flickered to Sherlock.

“Come on, after all I did for you when you got back? Gave you a phone.”

“Gave him a phone that you purposefully didn’t want because your wife inscribed it and at the time you hated her.” Sherlock ground out.

“What-how the fuck do you know that?”

“I know a lot of things. Because I observe. Also, it does help that John and I are intimately aware of one another; therefore, we talk about certain things.” Sherlock was well aware of the nastiness Harry Watson had projected onto her brother over their lifetime. The pair notoriously never got along and every time John had bailed her out she never learnt her lesson or extended a thanks.

“Intimately? Are you fucking him?” she laughed.

“Of course.”

John put his hand over his eyes in exasperation as he listened to them argue.

“What!? John isn’t gay.”

“Correct.”

“Then why the fuck you fucking him then?”

“He’s bisexual.” Sherlock shrugged.

Harry cackled, making John flinch and everyone in the room besides his sister felt the air tense and chill as rage began to fill him.

“Brilliant. Mum and dad would’ve had a field day if they were alive. Their perfect Doctor soldier Johnny a-“

“Finish that sentence and I’ll have you in rehab faster than you can finish that wine.” Mycroft interrupted.

She rounded on him sharply “Your this one's brother, not John's, waistcoat boy, so keep your nose out.”

“Right, Harry. I think you should go.” John said, already predicting the inevitable shouting match and thrown objects as was her usual reaction when she was this drunk. And he really didn’t have the patience for it.

“But John, it’s Christmas!” she turned big pleading eyes to him.

“Yeah. A Christmas that was perfectly pleasant before you arrived. You’ve done nothing but mouth-off since you got here.” John crossed his arms.

“Oh come on, John. Don’t be over-dramatic about everything.”

“Harriet. Your brother has requested you leave. Please do so.” Sherlock stood.

“You can’t tell me what to do –“

“Yes, I can. This is our house. And our festivities. If you require accommodation, I’d suggest the hostel two roads away in an Easterly direction, number 31. Say my name and they’ll let you in. And perhaps next time you come for a visit don’t be rude to your hosts. Maybe then you'll be permitted to stay.” He grabbed her elbow and marched her outside.

“You fucking nob – John, dump him he’s an arsehole – I’m your fucking sister!” she shouted all the way down the stairs.

Sherlock shut the door in her face and hopped back upstairs. He was met with silence and the sight of John looking weary.

“John?” he asked tentatively, approaching him “Was that… was that alright?”

John blinked a few times “Yeah… yeah, needed to be done. Thanks, Sherlock.” He gripped Sherlock’s hand then looked to Mrs Hudson and Mycroft “I hope you don’t mind, I just need a few minutes.” He disappeared down the hall to his and Sherlock’s bedroom, the door shutting gently behind him.

“Oh dear.” Mrs Hudson said quietly.

Sherlock put his and John’s plates in the oven and turned to the other two in the room “I imagine we will be back in a few minutes. Don’t let your food go cold.” And he followed his boyfriend.

“John?” Sherlock said softly as he shut the door behind him.

John was lying on the bed, back to the door.

“Mmm?” he hummed.

Sherlock climbed onto the bed and spooned him from behind, wrapping his arms around John’s waist.

John leaned back against his chest and sighed “Sorry that’s how you met my sister.”

“Well, my brother kidnapped you upon your first meeting with him. So, let’s call it even.”

John chuckled softly.

The room fell silent and Sherlock just held him for a few minutes. He rubbed his thumb back and forth on John’s waist in time with the ticking clock from John's bedside table.

“Let’s go back out there.” John said.

“Are you sure?” Sherlock pressed a kiss to John’s neck.

“I’m sure. Just needed a minute here to recoup. Thanks for all that though. Getting her out. Being on my side.” John turned around and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

“I’m always on your side, John.” Sherlock kissed him back.

“Quite right.” John raised his eyebrows, and Sherlock felt something in his chest ease at seeing John relax back into himself so quickly.

They returned to the kitchen and found Mrs Hudson detailing Mycroft with a disturbing amount of detail on an old exploit of hers from the eighties. Sherlock smirked at his brother’s bamboozled expression and returned the food to the table from the oven.

“You kept it warm?” John smiled as he sat beside him.

“Of course. I didn’t experiment on five turkeys over the course of a week only for the perfect Christmas day one to be ruined by a chill.” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

John laughed “You’re mad.” He ran a hand over Sherlock’s curls only for the man to scowl at their sure disarray and correct them to their perfect place.

“Yet here you are.” Sherlock took a piece of John’s meat and winked as he took a bite. The detective felt pleased and smug at the joyous laugh that burst from John.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a kudo or a comment if you like! :D


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